Science Is An Art, Right?
by BotchedRose22
Summary: Of course she had to meet him. There was no way around that. He was a mad scientist. She was a science fiction novelist. That meeting alone was worth a story. It was just a matter of growing a pair and talking to the man first. From there... who knew, really? (Rick/OC. T for all the reasons you'd expect from this show. Will become M later)
1. Chapter 1

**So I came up with this a couple days ago and the idea wouldn't leave so I'm rolling with it! To be honest, I didn't set in any time in particular, but I suppose it's obvious I'm ignoring *ahem* certain events for the sake of this story. I hope it turned out alright. Enjoy!**

* * *

Alright.

That was the house.

It had to be, right? There was no other house quite like it.

... Okay, that wasn't necessarily true. It looked normal enough, plain color scheme and regular dimensions, but... that didn't mean it _was_ normal. A building was more defined by what it held than what it appeared to be. In this case, the contents defined the building itself as strange, alienating it from the rest of the neighborhood.

Well, that was something she'd had plenty of experience with. Though it wasn't as if her features were regular or her color scheme very plain.

Eh, it didn't matter.

The girl knew she was just stalling again.

Her darted between one side of the street and the other, searching frantically for any oncoming vehicles. There were none, nor would there be at this time of day. It was mid-afternoon on a fucking Wednesday, for God's sake. Everyone was either working or learning. Nobody was going to come speeding through a residential area.

Still, she made a frantic dash across the street.

She stopped on the sidewalk.

Should she... how should she go about this? Go up and greet them? Explain who she was? Or just ask to speak to this scientist guy directly?

That might seem rude.

The girl tapped her foot against the pavement, trying to think. She pulled the ratty old notebook from her pocket and clutched it to her chest. Would having it out seem more official? It might make her look a tad like a journalist. Historically, that didn't usually work out to her advantage. But somehow having it there provided an extraordinary sense of comfort. It was a shield of paper and ink to protect her from unwanted conversations, and sometimes assist in starting ones she did want.

Hopefully it would do the latter.

Okay. Come on. You look like a damn creep just standing in front of a strangers house. Well, in this case she was the stranger. She was as alien to them as they were to her. At least it was a mutual thing.

...She was stalling again.

Taking a deep breath, the woman slowly made her way towards the front door.

* * *

There was a knock at the door. Almost on instinct at this point, Morty's entire form tensed up. Being jumpy, once a simple product of anxiety, had become almost necessary at this point. At any moment, anything and everything could happen. With Rick, it probably _would_ happen. It was just the norm.

After several moments, the boy relaxed a little. Nobody had kicked in the door, or screamed demanding for his grandfather, or shot a hole through the door...

Well, nothing habitually insane happened.

Morty sighed. Satisfied that it was safe to move, he stood up and made his way over towards the door. He stopped in front of it, waiting to see if they'd knock again, maybe even speak up. Though it seemed clear that nothing urgent was happening, that intense hesitance still lingered. It was irrational to wait, but part of him just... wanted to. If they really needed something, they'd knock again.

Nothing.

More nothing.

...Even more nothing.

Morty looked at the time display on his phone.

 _Knock._

There we go. Morty moved forward and pulled the door open.

Before him was a woman. The sight of her wasn't mind-boggling, she wasn't some alien or inter-dimensional being beyond the comprehension of man, but there was something inherently odd about her.

She seemed too lanky, her limbs incredibly thin and somehow too long for her. She practically swam in the jacket and sweatpants she wore. Over her breast was a notebook, a small thing worn with age and use. There were flecks of gold where lettering used to be. Above all this was a rather interesting set of facial features.

Her lips were spread out in a very wide smile, painfully wide. The smile of someone trying to hide their anxiety. Above this was a pair of mismatched eyes. One was a startling blue, the other a rich green. This combined with their strangely large size made them look almost inhuman. And to top it all off, she sported a mess of short, red hair that seemed to go in every which direction. She looked like a mad scientist.

"H-hi." She said.

"...Hi." Morty replied.

"Uhm... I... so I just...I just moved here a few weeks ago and I'm... "

She placed a hand over her face. This woman seemed to struggling with what to say.

Her face scrunched up. She sighed, putting her hand out.

"I'm... Iva."

"Nice to meet you, Iva, I'm Morty. M-Morty Smith."

"I've..." She paused. "It's nice to meet you, Morty."

He took her hand and shook it. It was bony, a bit cold, but certainly not the weirdest thing he'd touched.

"So what brings you here? You just introducing yourself to your new neighbors?"

Her eyes darted away. For a moment, she was quiet.

"Uh... not exactly."

"O-oh?"

Morty felt his shoulders tense back up.

"You see.. well..." Iva tapped her fingers against her notebook. "I-I... I'm... this might sound a little unrelated, but I write novels. Um, sci-fi. I heard that there was someone here who... was a scientist."

His shoulders tensed up more.

"Oh?"

"...Yeah. I was... I was hoping to maybe meet him. Get a little inspiration, you know?"

Morty didn't know what to do with that. Rick was a pretty secretive guy, and really abrasive to boot. He had no idea what his grandfather would make of this random woman asking him questions about his work.

It was obvious Iva could see the discomfort on Morty's face, because the next word out of her mouth was:

"Sorry."

Morty snapped out of his train of thought and looked back up at her.

"Huh?"

"I'm... I'm really sorry. This was weird. I'm being really invasive. I-I don't even know you... I-I'm sorry."

Without a single misstep, Iva turned around and began speed-walking in the opposite direction. Morty couldn't even get word in before she was across the street and heading out of ear-shot. All he could do without chasing after her was watch as she disappeared behind the street corner.

Part of him expected her to come back, but most of him knew she wasn't going to. After staring at nothing for a while, Morty closed the door and locked it.

Morty shook his head. The whole encounter was downright weird. Not batshit insane, but not exactly normal either. Just... a little off.

Even so, Morty felt Rick should know about it. People asking about him were usually never good news. He began walking towards the garage, wondering what explanation he'd have for this.

 **A/N: So here's chapter one! I don't know if this came out good or not, but I figured I'd give it a chance. Anyway, tell me what you think and I hope you all enjoyed. Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

The door slammed shut behind her as she ran into the house. For a few moments, the woman simply stood there, breathing heavily from the exertion. Though her slim body made the girl light on her feet, running still wasn't something she actively pursued.

Once she'd caught her breath, Iva began to process what had just happened.

"God damn it." She spoke through grit teeth. "I'm such an idiot!"

What worm had eaten at her brain enough to make that seem like a decent idea? You don't just walk to a strangers house and demand an interview like that!

Iva found herself throwing her notebook to the ground in frustration, only to immediately scoop it back up and hold it to her chest.

With a deep sigh, she made her way further into the house. It was still mostly empty, aside from the host of boxes scattered about. She found that they looked somewhat like an infestation, an invasion of geometric pests. Boxes weren't the things people associated with houses, anyway. It was a place to be filled with personal possessions. Markers of the owner.

But really, she kind of liked it this way. Empty and alien except for a few personal treasures. If suited her. Or she just hated unpacking.

The back bedroom, a tiny thing adorned with a black futon, awaited her. Iva threw herself onto it.

Though she really wanted to meet the mad scientist down the street, there was a strange relief in knowing she'd blown her chances. It saved her the anxiety of making a good first impression. It saved her the fear that she was being a nuisance. And it meant that she wouldn't have to feel awkward for even asking.

She'd already gone through all of those feelings! Now it was over, the cringe crawling up her spine could die, and life could go on.

Even if she now felt like a complete coward.

Even if she missed out on a really great source for novel research and inspiration.

Even if she made herself look terrible and she'd probably avoid that street now.

... Crap.

...Maybe she could go and apologize, try and salvage whatever remained of their chances to be on friendly terms. Probably not now, though. Next week, or would that be too long a wait period? Tomorrow?

Ah, she didn't know. She could deal with it later. For now, there was a coffee pot waiting to be unpacked.

* * *

"So- so what do you think, Rick?"

Morty had explained the entire encounter with Iva, from her nervous introduction to her request to meet with him to her even more nervous exit. Throughout the entire tale, the old man kept silent and worked on some new gadget he'd drawn up.

Now, even with this question on the table, he still didn't speak up.

Morty waited.

"Sh- she seems pretty weird, don't you think?"

He was quiet for a moment.

"Oh s-sorry Morty, did you say something? I wasn't paying attention."

Morty grit his teeth. "The girl! The girl down the street? She like... she wants to talk to you about your inventions and stuff? Don't you find that weird?"

Rick shrugged. "No."

Morty didn't say anything, just letting his eyes go wide with shock. Rick took notice of this let out a rather annoyed sigh.

"Look, M-Morty, I know you're just trying to-to look out for your grandpa, but your judgment is... how do I put it... oh yeah, awful."

"And why do you say that?"

The old man turned on his work stool. "Because not everything is out to get us, M-Morty. Sometimes what you see is... is exactly what you get."

Morty crossed his arms. "Well what makes you think that's the case with this girl? How do you she's not just trying to get secrets out of you, like-like manipulating and lying to get what she really wants?"

"Morty, let me- let me ask you something. Whenever someone has wanted something from me, one of these... these secrets... do they run away b-before you even get out a yes or no to their question? Or do they keep going?"

Rick stood up. "Do they persist and use any means necessary, manipulation or- or force, to get what they want?"

Morty seemed to think this over for a minute. "Yeah, I-I guess you're right, Rick."

"Of course I am. I'm always right. This is obviously just some... Some curious young novelist with social anxiety. Harmless."

Rick turned his attention away from Morty. His eyes were now focused on his large wall of gadgets. For a moment he stood there, simply tapping his foot on the ground.

"Uh... Rick...?"

The older man grabbed a cardboard box and began to place a few carefully chosen contraptions inside it.

"R-Rick... what are you doing?"

"I'm-I'm going to go meet her. Figured I'd bring a few... a few things with me. Like show and tell."

"Going to meet her?! Why would you do that, Rick? You-you don't even know where she lives!"

"She lives in that house that's been empty for five years, the-the one they sold about, what was it, three weeks ago?"

Morty went silent.

"Yeah, really not that hard to figure out, M-Morty."

The man began making his way out of the garage. Morty followed.

"I-I mean even so, Rick, why would you even want to meet her?"

With a grumble, Rick made a sharp turn on his heel to face his grandson.

"In case you haven't noticed, Morty, I... I'm a man of science, sure. But I'm also a huge supporter of-of the arts. Why do you think I was in a band, Morty? Why I call what I do a-an "art"? Literature is integral to society, you... you know. It's... it promotes creative thinking and acts a reflection of the human condition, Morty. In other words..."

Rick turned around.

"Shut your trap."

With that, he began walking down the street.

Ah geez, Morty thought, that girl is in for one hell of an afternoon.

 **A.N.: I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to continue this story for a while, which is why I left it alone for so long. But my desire to keep going has been reignited by some incredibly encouraging reviews! I sincerely hope this chapter still meets those expectations. I was nervous about characterizing Rick, which was another reason for my leaving this fic for so long. So I hope I did okay here! Anyways, thank you all so very much for the support and I will see you next time!**


	3. Chapter 3

God damn it. Where had she packed it? She could've sworn it was in the box nearest to her bed. It was one of the only things, without fail, that she kept near her. And yet, somehow, here she was. A trail of old newspapers (say what you want about that dying medium, newspaper is the ultimate packing material) littered the floor all the way back to her bedroom as she searched through box after box for the desired item.

Ah well, she thought. At the very least it got her procrastinating ass to start unpacking the rest of her essentials.

Of course this was what it took to get her motivated. Figures.

Wait...

Iva dug her hands into one of the more unassuming boxes in the corner of the room. Her hands touched the familiar smooth top and even smoother glass.

"There you are ya little son-of-a-bitch. Come here."

Iva lifted up her coffee maker from the nest of paper. Setting that to the side, the girl pulled out the three coffee mugs she'd packed along with it. Part of her wondered why she only seemed to keep three coffee mugs. Perhaps it felt less depressing than keeping one, but didn't feel like an overabundance. It didn't look like she was over-compensating for anything, but it also didn't make her look as if she was pathetically alone either. It was the socially acceptable amount of mugs to have when living alone.

Or it saved her trouble of tedious dish washing. Either way, either way.

Once she got everything set up and washed off the newspaper ink, she started the coffee. Despite everything else , Iva had not forgotten to buy her food and drink necessities.

Good job, you managed to keep yourself alive, she thought.

So here she sat, sipping on a cup of victory coffee and looking around at the mess she had made in pursuit of said cup of coffee.

"Cheers." She said, taking a big gulp.

 _Knock knock._

The sudden sound caused Iva to nearly choke on her drink. She sat there coughing and sputtering for a minute before frantically making her way to the door.

"H-hello?" She called.

"Yeah, hi. My grandson said... he said you came by our house earlier and wanted to speak with me?" The voice that spoke was gravely, deep. Definitely the voice of an older man.

Oh shit. Oh shit.

"Uh... just a sec!"

It was him. He was probably here to demand why she was snooping around his place. Oh no. Of course she should've expected this. God damn it. Well... she supposed it would at least give her the opportunity to apologize.

Iva knew she didn't have time to do anything substantial with her appearance, but she managed to wipe up the trail of coffee down her chin before opening the door.

... Whatever she had been expecting, this was not it. Well, she had been expecting it, but was surprised that she got what she expected.

He looked exactly like what someone would imagine an inventor looks like. His hair was a complete mess of blue-grey, going in every which direction one could imagine. The man even sported a wild unibrow. His eyes were icy blue and had an almost unnaturally intense gaze, the gaze of someone who studied everything around them. Around the corner of his mouth was some kind of greenish mucus. Even his body, being incredibly lanky and wrapped in a lab coat, matched the stereotype.

He was the quintessential mad scientist.

But what was most surprising was the large box of various gadgets he carried with him. What... why would he bring those?

Iva realized in that moment that she had been staring at this man for an awkward amount of time.

"Uh..." Crap, what should she say? "H-hi! Yeah, I... I was the one asking for you."

She stuck out her hand. "I'm Iva."

The scientist didn't speak for a moment. He seemed to be simply stating at the girl with with a look in his eye that she couldn't quite place. Curiosity? Recognition?

Finally he took his eyes off of her and glanced at her hand. Shifting the contents of his box to one arm, he offered out a hand himself.

"I'm Rick. Rick Sanchez."

His hand was, much like hers, rather bony. But unlike hers, it was almost coated in hard callouses from years of constant use.

"So ya gonna... gonna invite me in or what?" He asked.

"Uh..." Iva glanced back. Not only was there newspaper all over the carpet, there was also a fresh coffee stain near the kitchen. The idea of inviting this scientist into her home for a professional interview was... well...

"It's uh... it's not really unpacked in there. I don't think you'd want to-"

"Trust me, I don't care. Now do you want to t-talk to me or not?"

Iva bit her lip. Well, he had taken the trouble to come over here. It was only fair that she let him in.

The girl moved out of the door frame.

"T-thanks."

Rick took a few steps in. Iva watched his eyes wander around and take in the interior. His eyebrow raised in a quizzical expression.

"Quite a set-up you have here."

Iva sighed, her eyes moving to the floor.

"...I was trying to find my coffee pot."

His eyes moved over to the kitchen area. On the counter-top separating the tile from the carpet was the half-full pot, along with the cup, still dripping with wayward liquid.

"Looks like you managed to find it."

"Y-yeah... so, would you care to sit somewhere?"

Among all the half-unpacked boxes and newspaper was really only one place for them to sit. In the middle of the room was a tiny love seat left-over from the days living in her family's basement. Rick, noticing this was the only furniture in the room, plopped down and set his box on the floor beside him.

Iva walked over to him. "I-I am so sorry about this. I haven't had much time to unpack yet and I wasn't expecting company and If I'd have known you were coming I would've-"

Rick held up a hand in the "stop" gesture. Iva went silent.

"Believe me, I d-don't expect a clean house from someone who moved in, what... two weeks ago, give or take a couple days?"

"Y-yeah, actually."

"Furthermore, I really, truly, genuinely don't care."

Iva gave a nervous smile. "W-well thank you."

Now both of them were silent. Iva stood where she was, waiting for Rick to say something.

"Y-you gonna sit down or what?"

"O-oh. Yeah."

She sat down on the other side. Though, considering how small it was, that wasn't saying much. The proximity was almost a little too close for comfort. At least, it seemed that way to her.

Rick began rummaging through his box.

"Thank you so much for coming, Mr. Sanchez. I really... I really appreciate it. I'm very sorry for the way I brought this up though."

"Eh, you have nothing to apologize for. And... and also, my name is _Rick._ I don't wanna hear any of that 'Mr. Sanchez' crap. I may be old, but- but... not that old."

Iva nodded. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of Rick. He had a rather abrasive manner, at least that was what she got form him, and seemed to pepper every statement with stutters and burps. Hardly seemed like a professional. But, honestly, she kind of liked it. It felt more genuine than the phony politeness and formalities usually associated with first meetings. She felt as if she was talking to an actual person instead of the polished version of a person.

That didn't she was any less terrified of making a bad first impression. Ah hypocrisy, thy name is Iva.

"So what do you have there?" She asked.

"Well... well since you wanted some inspiration, I thought I'd show you some of my inventions. Get a feel for what I do and... and get the ol' gears turning."

"Oh, wow! I... thank you, thank you so much!"

That was... incredibly kind of him! Iva felt truly touched by the gesture.

"No prob. So- so what kind of science fiction do you write about? Deep space? F-futuristic technology? Time travel? You seem like the time travel type."

Iva shook her head. "Actually, I'm more of a parallel dimensions type. It's much more interesting to me."

He looked up from his box. "Really now?"

"Yeah." She felt herself ease a little more into her seat. "To be honest, I tend to stay away from time travel. There's really nothing that hasn't been done. Besides, you have to deal with all the paradoxes and... and the butterfly effect stuff... the whole thing is really messy. Seems kinda pointless, y'know?"

Rick looked back down for a moment. "Y-yeah..."

Iva tensed back up a bit.

"Uh... I also dabble in genetic engineering. You know, a little Frankenstein type stuff. Sometimes I mix in fantasy with sci-fi, since they can be so... they can be closely related sometimes. But mostly the multiverse thing."

The older man finally seemed to settle on something and pulled a gadget from the box.

"Y-yeah cool. Well, anyways, this is a Meeseeks box."

He offered out an object. It was, indeed, a box. The main color seemed to be a dark grey, highlighted with blue edges and aqua circles on the center of each side. On the very top was a button.

"W-what does this do?"

"In your case..." Rick began. "It'll help you clean up all this shit."

 **A.N.: Well here's chapter three! I hope you all enjoyed. Thank you so much for all the feedback! ^^**


	4. Chapter 4

Iva had already made herself a second cup of coffee, though she didn't particularly want one. Or more, she didn't have a craving for it at the moment. It simply saved her from standing there awkwardly while the team of cartoonish blue creatures picked up her mess. Her first instinct was to assist them, but they seemed stoutly against it.

"It-it's their job, Iva. You give them a task, they do it. And if you are not directly involved in that task, they don't want your help." Rick had explained. "I-it just slows them down."

So here she was, staring in awe as these... Meeseeks as Rick called them... reduced the mass of newspapers littering her carpet to nothing. Iva took a long gulp of her coffee. She didn't care to taste it.

Finally, the mess was completely gone, all tucked away in garbage bags that had been generously taken to the curb.

The group of Meeseeks looked around.

Satisfied with their work, they all promptly burst into clouds of blue mist.

Iva could only stare for a moment.

"I... uh... did they just...?"

"Die? Yes. Trust me, they're fine with it."

This blunt response shook her from the state of shock she was in. Iva set her coffee back on the counter and picked up her notebook. For a moment, she had almost forgotten about the interview portion of this meeting.

"May I... may I ask why? Why are they fine with it?"

Rick looked up at her. He looked somehow more serious than before.

"Existence is pain to them. T'they want to serve what... whatever purpose they're given as quickly as as possible. The faster they get it... over with... the faster they stop existing."

Iva stared at him for a moment before rushing to grab a pen. Her mind was already alight with ideas. Perhaps it was the two cups of coffee she had downed in less than half an hour (genius move, Iva), but the girl was starting to head towards a near manic elation. Soon the only sound in the room was the mad scribbling of notes on paper.

 _Scientists designed beings driven with a known purpose... but hate their own existence... perhaps reflecting the creators own views on life?_

 _Perhaps a flipped version of human existence? We search for purpose and feat the end of our existence... maybe if we knew our purpose we would be the same as the Meeseeks?_

She stopped to think. She put a star next that last sentence.

 _Idea may need some developing. Feels too simplistic._

Iva turned back to Rick. He was fiddling with another gadget. It occurred to her that perhaps she had spent a long time writing her notes in silence. God, she needed to work on her interviewing skills. Maybe a few journalism classes would do her some good.

"I... thank you for being so patient. I kind of get lost in my thoughts when I'm writing." Another thought popped into her mind. "O-Oh. And thank you so much for the help with this mess. I... you really saved me a lot of time."

Rick shrugged. "Eh, no problem."

It was a short response, but it still made Iva feel better.

"S-so, now that all that shit is cleaned up..."

Rick once again pressed the button on top of the Meeseeks box.

"W-what are you..."

But before Iva could finish her sentence, yet another blue creature popped out of the box.

"I'm Mr. Meeseeks, look at me!"

"Mr. Meeseeks, unpack Iva's crap for her."

W-wait, no...

"Ooooh, Caan do!"

Iva immediately began to reject this request.

"Oh no no no, I don't need the help, honestly, I got it."

Rick waved a dismissive hand at her. "Yes you do. Plus it stops you from asking m-me to help you."

The girl bit her lip. The idea of a random creature rummaging through her stuff was unnerving, to say the least. There was something inherently invasive about it. A lot of those things were very personal to her. Besides, she had mostly forgotten what was in what box, so there was no telling what the Meeseeks was going to find. Or what Rick was going to see.

Or maybe it was the coffee-induced hyper anxiety talking. Again, brilliant thinking, Iva.

And Iva, knowing herself, had a feeling that this was the only way her stuff was going to be unpacked in a reasonable time frame. She certainly wasn't gonna get this crap done today. Or this week. Or maybe...

"Okay, fair point. So uh... while your blue man group is doing that... what's the next gadget you wanna show me?"

Rick rummaged through his box once again. After a few minutes, he fished something out that looked like a VR headset. She cocked her head to the side with curiosity.

"What's this?"

"Something... something I think you might be interested in, I-Iva."

She took a few steps towards him. He seemed to see this as an indication to keep talking.

"Ya know how you were talking about parallel dimensions?"

She nodded.

"Well, this here... This can show you lives you live in-in alternate realities." He explained this in a conversational tone, as if he was talking about a new app or explaining how a phone works. "It uses retinal scanning and matches your DNA to your alternate self."

Though Iva's heart was already thumping quite heavily, she could now feel it speed up so much that it threatened to burst through her chest cavity.

"So... a-alternate realities... exist?"

"Yep."

He said this without a second thought. Rick didn't even need to look at her to notice how taken aback she was by the whole situation.

"Get used to the idea now. E-especially if you wanna have anything to do with me."

Iva shook her head. Part of her didn't believe him. There was... how could he have proof that they exist? How did he even get a hold of... it was all so insane. And even if Iva used that VR set, there was no guarantee that was she would see would actually be an alternate universe. It could just as easily be advanced computer graphics.

Then again, there was currently a blue dude created from god knows what unpacking her silverware. Was she really in a position to be skeptical?

"S-so do you wanna use it or what?" Rick interrupted her thoughts.

Iva snapped her head up.

"Huh?"

"Do you wanna see... see your alternate lives or not?"

Iva considered it for a moment. The idea was tempting. More than tempting, really. It would certainly provide more than enough inspiration for her work, and validate everything she'd always believed in. But...

"I... I don't think I should."

Rick didn't say anything. He simply cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. It was obvious he was waiting for an explanation.

"I... I'm sorry. I-I don't want to seem rude. It's just I don't think it's the best idea for me. The uh... the idea kind of worried me, to be honest. Who knows what I'll see. I-I might be happier in another life. Or not. I don't think I should see either way. Sometimes it's better left a mystery, ya know?"

Rick put the headset back in the box. Iva felt as if she'd made a huge mistake.

"I-I know that goes against science and curiosity and knowledge and all, I just... I'm really sorry. Please don't take it the wrong way."

Rick shrugged, still silent. He stood up.

Shit, shit, shit, she was blowing it.

"Um, excuuse me?" Mr. Meeseeks called from behind them.

Both turned. Iva clasped a hand over her mouth when she saw what he was holding. "Where do you want me to put all these... Harry Potter... books?"

Oh God, no. No no no, this is exactly what she was afraid of.

"Just... just... anywhere. In the back closet. I don't care. Those are really old, I- I forgot I even owned those."

Great, just what she needed. To look like even less of a professional in front of the scientist she just offended. Not only did he think she was too much of a pussy to use his inventions, he also new she still read children's books.

Slowly, she turned back to Rick. He was holding his box of gadgets.

"O-oh... are you leaving?" She asked, as if she was surprised.

"Yeah." He said.

"O-oh, okay."

She hoped that her voice didn't sound as defeated as the rest of her. It was the last scrap of dignity she could try and salvage.

"What are you "oohing" for? Y-you're coming with."

Iva raised her own quizzical eyebrow. "Huh?"

"Y-yeah. I have something else, something better, that-that'd be more up your alley. But it's it my house. So are you coming or not?"

Iva was far too relieved to really question what this "something better" was. Her concern now lay with the creature that was no doubt finding more embarrassing treasures hidden in her boxes.

"What about Mr. Meeseeks? Will he be okay by himself?"

"Trust me, I-it'll be fine. Once everything is unpacked, it'll disappear. I- I'm not in the business of making things that can't-can't function by themselves. Now, shall we go?"

Iva let out a heavy breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"Yeah. Yeah let's go."

 **A/N: And here's the next chapter! I hope everyone liked it**! **Thank you so much for all the support! Seeya next time!**


	5. Chapter 5

The inside of Rick's house was as plain as the outside. All the furniture and trappings were domestic and tame, the lighting was decent, and... there was the distinct scent of vanilla air freshener clinging to everything. It wasn't... surprising, per say... just... odd. She struggled to come up with a better way of describing it than that.

Odd.

Maybe it was just because she was expecting something a bit messier. A bit grimier. A laboratory with gadgets scattered about, perhaps walls covered in blueprints with barely legible handwriting scrawled in the margins. This was the idea Iva had built in her head as they made their way over. Now she scolded herself for such stereotypical thinking.

It wasn't fair to assume Rick lived in any particular way. He was, after all, more than just a scientist. He was a human. A grandfather, and, subsequently, a father. And it wasn't as if his house was some out of the way shack. It was just another house in a suburban neighborhood.

Iva pulled out her notebook again. If she was going to make stupid assumptions, she thought, the very least she could do was learn from them and use them.

 _Mad scientist who leads a relatively normal life outside of his work. Could prove to be an interesting play on the trope._

Rick led her into the living room.

"S-Stay right there, I'm gonna go make some popcorn." He said. "And uh... make yourself at home, I guess."

Before she could even get in a thank you,, Rick disappeared into the kitchen.

The girl stood there awkwardly for a minute. It wasn't the popcorn run that she found strange so much as it was being left alone in this strangers' living room. She had sudden fear of another member of the house finding her, asking her what she was doing here. And Iva knew she wouldn't have a good answer.

Her eyes searched around the room for whatever it was Rick wanted to show her. But, just like everything else, it all looked completely normal.

She started to think. Well, perhaps that was the idea. The appearance of normality had its benefits. It could ask a social mask to get one through life undetected. Not that... well... she did a very good job of that. But that was beside the point. Perhaps he kept his inventions hidden. It certainly made sense. Someone with the kind of knowledge Rick seemed to possess would certainly gain a few... interested parties... over the years.

So trying to make everything as normal as possible would be a good defense mechanism.

Or not.

Iva realized that she had no way of knowing until he showed her whatever it was he wanted to show her. So she sat down.

Maybe, she thought, she was just uncomfortable with all this domestic stuff. Maybe she was just _hoping_ for things to be grimy and bizarre and messy.

At this point Rick returned to the room, hefty bowl of popcorn in hand. Honestly she'd forgotten that was why he'd left in first place.

He plopped down beside her with little care for what happened to said popcorn.

"So, uh..." Iva began. "What is it you wanted to show me?"

Rick set the bowl down and fished around for something.

"God damn it." He grumbled. "Where the... where the hell is it?"

"What are you looking for?"

"J-just a second..."

He hopped over to the other side of the couch and skulked around for a few minutes. Iva watched as he scoured the room for whatever desired item was on his mind. She wanted to help him out, but had a creeping feeling that he didn't want her assistance.

She decided to take a bite of popcorn just for a sense of doing something.

"Ah! Th-there you are, you little son of a bitch!"

Rick fished a remote control from under a nearby chair.

" _Jerry_ must've dropped it." He said as he returned to the couch.

Iva had no clue who Jerry was, but by the way Rick spat his name out, she could tell he wasn't a favorite. But that didn't interest her as much as the remote itself. Was this the invention? Did it control something other than the television? Or did it do something odd to the television itself?

"O-okay Iva." Rick began. "I think you're gonna... you're gonna love this. It's a much better use of time than narcissisticly ob-obsessing over your alternate selves. Watch this."

He turned on the television.

Iva dropped her popcorn.

" _Helllooo everyone, and welcome back to uh... to shit reviews. I'm your host, M-Murray McFlurry."_

The host was quite obviously not human. His body was much more rounded, and his skin appeared to some deep shade of puce. This creature was standing outside a random house.

" _Now, let's go review some shit!"_

Murray walked into the house and up the stairs, his camera crew following him. They came to a locked door. After jiggling the knob, a voice came from the other side.

" _I-I'm in here, man! Just a sec!"_

The host shrugged.

 _"Uh-oh! Looks like we gotta... we gotta... get in there another way!"_

Murray kicked in the door.

The man sitting on the toilet immediately began to protest, demanding that they leave and threatening to call the police. Murray pushed him off of the toilet without a second thought.

 _"Ooohhh, this is... this is quite a fine piece! Good color, fine texture, and... ohh, is that a hint of uh, corn I detect! I give this piece of shit an A-."_

The man who had previously occupied the toilet was now attempting to beat Murray with a nearby plunger.

 _"Welp... that's all the time we have for now! Tune in next week for more sh-"_

Rick changed the channel.

Iva slowly turned to face him. Her eyes and mouth were both open to a painful degree.

"I-interdimensional t.v." He said, answering the question before Iva could even ask. "I installed a cable box that gets us programs from... from infinite timelines and dimensions."

Iva remained silent. Her mind was already in rapid fire.

Interdimensional... Interdimensional television. She wasn't even questioning if this was real or not, there was really no doubt at this point, she was just thinking in implications.

A viewer could observe entertainment from every conceivable dimension. They could observe what other lifeforms consider entertainment. What their ideas on censorship and morally acceptable programming are.. They could hear about news, be up to speed with an ongoing war in another galaxy. They could watch scientific programs from the perspective of other-dimensional beings.

And by they... she meant herself. She could do all of these things. This would open so many questions about sociology and psychology and... and just... just the nature of life in general!

She didn't realize she was grinning like a loon until her face started to hurt.

"You're right." Iva finally responded. "This... this really is better."

Rick seemed pleased.

"Well, whatcha wanna watch then?"

* * *

Iva was surprised to find that she'd filled at least twenty pages worth of notes. Some of them were simply a synopsis of whatever strange and unique show Rick had put on. Others were plot ideas. And others still were sociological implications that she thought would be interesting to speculate on.

Her last note, she thought, was probably summed up her current state the best.

 _TV from other universes doesn't seem to be confined to the strict story structures of our media. A lot of improvised stories. Violence, sex, and gratuity are commonplace._

 _Also this means the multiverse theory is real. As are aliens._

 _Everything is possible and all stories have a place._

 _Maybe mine do too._

Her handwriting was shaky and hurried, mostly from sheer excitement. But also because after twenty pages of notes, her hand was starting to ache like a bitch.

She finally put her notebook back in her pocket and set the borrowed pen on the table. Rick seemed to take notice.

"F-finally. I was wondering when you were gonna run out of steam."

Iva froze. She was suddenly all too aware of her actions over the past couple hours. There had been hardly any words exchanged between the two during this session of television watching. It was mostly just Rick channel surfing and Iva madly scrambling to write . The girl, as usual, had completely gotten lost in her own bubble.

God damn it, she knew better than this!

"I...I'm so sorry. I-I wasn't meaning to ignore you, this was just so incredible...I am so, so sorry."

Rick cocked his head to the side. "Anyone ever tell you... you apologize too much?"

She nodded, lowering her head. Much to her own dismay, Iva wanted to say "sorry" again.

Rick took another bite of popcorn.

"Look, people... people don't watch television to talk. They watch it as an excuse _not_ to talk. So don't... don't get all worked up over it."

Don't say sorry, don't say sorry...

"Okay."

"Great. Well... since you're not doing your research, y-you pick something. I'm sick of holding this thing."

He thrusted the remote at her.

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Yeah sure, knock- knock yourself out."

Iva took it. For a moment, she just stared at the device. She could choose anything. Literally, anything. The power was sitting right in the palm of her hand. It was an amazing, if overwhelming, feeling. She decided it would be best, for now, to just search around until she found something interesting.

Marathon of "Shit Reviews?"

Nah.

Documentary about the hunting of space whales?

Eh, she was always weary of those kinds of films. They could be informative, or they could _make_ you feel like shit for being alive.

She had enough of that already.

Movie about a guy having sex with a corpse puppeteered by cats?

... Okay she had to admit a part of her wanted to see that, just out of morbid curiosity. But she knew she'd hate herself for it. So no.

The next channel that came up was the "Intergalactic News". Iva stopped.

"Say... do you know if this is from our universe?"

Rick shrugged. "Hard to tell. Why, do you wanna... wanna watch it?"

She also shrugged. "...It looks interesting. Do you mind?"

"You're the one with the remote."

"...Fair." She replied.

Iva set the remote down.

 _"...The suspect is still at large."_ A newswoman spoke. She was somewhat bug-like in appearance, with her eyes far big for her face and limbs unnaturally long.

Then again, who the hell was Iva to talk?

" _On a lighter note, the Galactic Federation welcomed its newest member , or should we say members, earlier this week. The hive mind known as Unity was officially recognized after-"_

"Change the channel." Rick's voice was suddenly flat, cold.

Iva didn't hesitate. She immediately turned it back to the documentary on space whales.

The girl looked over at Rick. Something had definitely changed about his demeanor. It was small, but enough for Iva to pick up on it. His once relaxed body was now rigid, perhaps even a bit drawn in on itself. Rick's brow was ever so slightly furrowed. His mouth turned down just a little bit at the edges.

...She knew that name meant something to him. Probably something very painful. And though this recognition had all sorts of implications about his expeditions as a scientist, Iva knew this was not something to ask about.

"...Uh... do you... are you okay, Rick?"

This snapped him out of that rigid state to some degree.

"I... y-yeah. I'm fine. Everything is fine. I just can't stand the news. It's all... it's all scare-tactics and political slander."

"O-okay."

It was, of course, a blatant lie, but she didn't blame him for telling it. She understood the feeling.

"Well... uh... I got all the inspiration and research I could ever hope for! Thank you so, so much Rick. Thank you. If you want, I can go ahead and leave. I don't want to take up more of your time than you want..."

Iva got the sense that Rick wanted to be alone. The last thing she wanted was to stay when he didn't want her there.

"...Nah, nah. Stay. There are uh...there are a couple more channels I wanna show you."

"A-are you sure?" She asked.

He didn't speak, but nodded. Rick offered out his empty hand. Iva handed him the remote.

Relaxing back into her seat, Iva grabbed another handful of popcorn.

 **AN: And here's the next chapter! I hope you all enjoyed. Thank you so so much for all of your support and patience! Seeya next time!**


	6. Chapter 6

Iva didn't notice when the front door opened.

Rick had, after the 'News' incident, introduced her to a movie called 'Two Brothers'. Needless to say, it was about way more than uh... just two brothers. Part of her wanted to take notes on it, but honestly, her hand was still screaming at her from the rest of the day. So she just sat back and absorbed the madness.

"Excuse me..." a male voice spoke.

It made Iva jump a bit. The voice didn't belong to Rick, as it was smoother and sounded younger. She turned her head to look at its owner.

He was a middle-aged fellow, though exactly how old he was Iva couldn't determine, with light brown hair and brown eyes. His arms were crossed in a way that could only mean annoyance, and his facial expression seemed to match.

"May I ask who this is, Rick?"

Rick pulled out a flask from his lab coat pocket and took a sip.

"Jerry this is Iva. Iva, Jerry."

Oh, _this_ was Jerry.

Well, she could certainly tell that he and Rick didn't get along. They wore twin expressions of annoyance, or perhaps slight hatred. The air suddenly felt a lot thicker.

Iva, a little afraid to speak, gave a polite wave in Jerry's direction. He didn't seem to notice.

"Is this another one of your crazy space friends, Rick?" He waved in his arms around in a mock-dazzled fashion.

Crazy... space friends? The implications of that phrase fluttered around in Iva's brain.

Rick scowled. "Uh, no. I-Iva moved into the neighborhood a few... weeks ago. She's our new neighbor."

Jerry's annoyed expression softened. For the first time, it seemed, he actually looked at Iva.

"Oh." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry."

"Y-yeah, think before you ask, _Jerry."_

The man dropped his head a little, probably out of embarrassment.

"I... Don't worry. It's okay." She said.

It wasn't as if this was the first time she'd been mistaken for an alien in her life. She couldn't exactly blame him.

"So, when did you move in? I don't remember seeing any moving trucks recently."

"O-oh, a few weeks ago. My house is on the next street over."

This seemed to strike a cord with him. "Ah! You moved into that house they've been trying to rent out for ages! The little grey one?"

"That's the one." She confirmed.

"I knew it! Well, how's the neighborhood been treating you so far?"

Iva shrugged. She never really knew how to respond to these kind of small-talk questions. Every reply she had always came out sounding artificial and forced.

"I uh... haven't seen much of it. Moving in kinda took priority."

"Gotcha. Bet it's been a big hassle!"

"I...yeah, I guess. Moving always is."

It was at this point Rick interjected.

"J-jeez, Jerry. Are you gonna... bombard her with shitty, brain-dead small talk all day or do you a-actually have something of substance to ask?"

Jerry scowled at him.

"It's called being _polite,_ Rick. Maybe you should try it sometime."

"Yeah what you call 'polite', _Jerry,_ I call being... being too gutless to get to the point."

"Alright, _fine._ I'll 'get to the point'."

He turned back to Iva. "So how do you know my 'genius' father-in-law here?"

Oh.

He was Rick's son-in-law. Well, it certainly made sense. While Jerry looked as if he was old enough to be Rick's child, there was hardly any physical resemblance between them.

Why they were so hostile towards one another, though... that remained to be seen. Must be something deeply rooted. Iva wasn't about to try and dissect that.

"Well, he uh... I... I'm a science fiction writer. And well, Rick being a ma- a scientist and all, I figured I'd try and learn a bit about his work."

Jerry raised a quizzical eyebrow before turning to Rick.

"And you... agreed?"

"Y-yep." Rick replied in the most indifferent tone he could.

Jerry looked back at Iva. She shrugged.

"...Well then... interesting. What kind of science fiction do you write?"

"I-interdimensional stuff."

"... That explains a lot." Jerry mumbled.

"Look, J-Jerry, Iva and I are in the middle of a... of an important interview here."

Jerry glanced at the television.

"I'm sure. Anyways, I've got to start on dinner. So enjoy your 'interview'."

Jerry began making his way over to the kitchen. As he walked away, Iva swore she could hear him mutter 'jackass' under his breath. Rick, much more audibly, coughed 'tool' into fist.

Iva didn't realize her body was so tense until Rick spoke to her again.

"S-sorry you had to meet my daughter's idiot over there. He's a real... a real piece of work."

"I... it's okay. He seemed nice enough."

Well, he did have that typical suburban vibe to him, which generally made Iva even more critical of herself than usual, but he seemed alright.

Rick gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

"No need to... to sugarcoat it, Iva. All that m-mindless chatter; you were obviously uncomfortable."

She cast her eyes downward. He was right, of course. It wasn't difficult to figure out. Iva knew she wasn't a hard person to read when it came to that kind of stuff. But honestly, it wasn't Jerry's fault that she was uncomfortable.

"Mind if I'm honest with you, Rick?"

His unibrow rose in a curious fashion.

"I-Iva, if you wanna have anything to do with me, you should know to never ask that question again. Just... just assume that the answer is always yes. I'm not here to- to talk bullshit."

She made a mental note to herself to write that down later, when her hand wasn't begging for death.

"Okay. Well... honestly... it's not Jerry's fault I'm uncomfortable. Most people make me uncomfortable."

By that, she meant basically everyone did. Sometimes it was a matter of her being uncomfortable right off the bat. It had happened many times. There was just something fundamentally different between her and the other person, and it made everything feel off. Or it happened over time. It could start out smooth, but after a while, that same distance and difference reared its ugly head.

She supposed this discomfort was just something ingrained in her life. Sometimes she wondered if was really her being uncomfortable, or if she made everyone around her uncomfortable and that, in turn, made her uncomfortable.

Rick took another swig of his flask.

"T-that's because you're not a complete I-idiot."

Iva's head snapped back up.

"S-smart people don't jive well with society, Iva. The fact that people make you uncomfortable is a... a good thing. It means your brain is working."

Iva blinked in surprise. Whatever she had been expecting to hear, it wasn't that.

"I... uh, thank you."

"No prob."

The two slipped back into relative silence for a while. Rick surfed through a couple more channels, and Iva sat there enjoying herself. She was really starting to feel content.

That is, until she realized it was night. Not just getting dark, not just the beginnings of the evening. It was actually night. Iva scrambled to grab her phone out of her jacket pocket.

9:30 pm?

She stood to her full height.

"Oh crap! I uh... I didn't realize it was this late. I should be heading back home."

Rick didn't respond for a moment. He took another sip from his flask.

"O-okay. Seeya around then."

Iva bit her lip

"I-I can't thank you enough for everything. You've been so helpful. I... Thank you, Rick."

She felt a little stupid for just stringing together a bunch of "thank you-s", but that was really the only thing she could think to say.

"Maybe... uh... if I..." She sighed. "I'll seeya around, Rick. Thank you."

He gave a brisk, short wave, but said nothing. Iva took that as her cue to leave.

The girl had to admit she was a bit reluctant to go. She knew that after this, there'd be no reason for her to contact Rick again. She'd gotten her research, her notes, her inspiration. He'd been more than helpful in that respect. Iva didn't want to bother him further.

She shouldn't push her luck like that, anyways. So to the front door she went.

With a heavy sigh, Iva grasped the knob and pulled open the door. But, instead of the inky night to greet her, Iva was faced with the business end of a very alien-looking gun.

 **A.N.: And here is chapter six. I hope everything came out all right! As you can probably guess, things are going to pick up a bit in the next installment! I figured they should, since that's kind of the Rick and Morty way, ya know? Anyways, thank you so much for all of your reviews and support! I was not expecting such a positive response! It means the world to me. Seeya next time, everyone!**


	7. Chapter 7

She felt like an observer to the situation.

No, that wasn't quite it.

She was in the situation, alright, speaking and existing, but she wasn't... there. It was as if a thick glass sheet had come between her emotions and her mental processing.

The gun was pressed to Iva's forehead. It was oddly warm, considering it was made of metal. Perhaps it had recently been used. It was attached to a cerulean blue hand that bore many glittering rings.

Iva's eyes focused in on the rest of the body. Its lower half seemed to be crab-like, while the top was more human and draped in a fancy fur coat. She couldn't help but think he'd be the worst merman at the party. In his other hand he bore a cane. Iva wondered why a crab would need a cane , since he had so many legs.

"Good evenin', young lady." The crab said. "Lovely night, isn't it just?"

Somehow his southern twang made everything feel more surreal.

She heard the faintest "oh crap" in the background.

"Good evening." Iva replied. Her voice came out mechanical and monotone.

The crab took a few steps forward into the house. Since his gun was still firmly pressed to Iva's forehead, she took a few steps backwards into the house.

"Tell me, little miss, have you seen Rick Sanchez around? I would very much like to speak with him."

Iva could sense Rick's sudden panic from the living room.

"I have not, sir."

"Oh there's no need to call me 'sir'. My name is Cornelius. Cornelius Chesapeake Van Dungeness. But my, ahem, associates... they call me King."

She had a distinct idea of what he meant by 'associates'. Part of her, for whatever reason, was curious as to how a crab managed that kind of thing. Most of her didn't want to know. That was the side she went with.

"Which would you prefer I call you?" Iva asked.

Suddenly the barrel of the gun was no longer pressing into her skin. The crab snapped it into a leather holster on his hip. He shot Iva the most devilish smile he could muster. If she had had the capacity to, the girl would have felt extremely uncomfortable.

"Well aren't you the polite one? You can call me King as well." He winked at her.

Iva gave a polite nod.

The crab took a couple steps closer to her. "Now, I do apologize for the way I greeted you. That goes against my better natures. But the man I am dealing with is, shall I say, difficult to persuade. My frustration gets the better of me at times."

Her hand was suddenly sandwiched between both of his. They squeezed a bit too tightly.

"I hope you will forgive me, young lady."

The look in his eyes hinted at serious consequences if she didn't.

"Yes, King."

He let go. "Good, good, no harm done then."

Iva, on pure instinct, took a small step back from the creature before her.

"May I ask what this is about?" She asked. "Perhaps I can help you."

Iva, in some part of her brain, had a vague plan. Even if only involved stalling this strange crab man, it was better than nothing.

"Oh, he hasn't mentioned me? I can hardly say I'm surprised. Mr. Sanchez does seem to love shirking details."

His voice dipped towards the end of that statement, perhaps indicating displeasure. Something from personal experience. The crab briefly ran his fingers over his holster.

Iva's eyes darted over to the dining area.

"Would you care to join us for dinner? My... uncle Jerry is cooking. We can discuss this over a meal."

Iva didn't even feel as if these words were coming from her. These were all formal words, stiff and normal conversation. She was on complete autopilot.

"Why that would be delightful! And they say hospitality is dead in this century."

The crab walked, or well... scuttled...over to the table and took a spot at the head seat. He set his cane gently up against the side and folded his hands neatly on top of the table. Iva followed him in.

"I'll let Jerry know we have a guest with us."

"Please, please, take your time."

Iva made her way into the adjoining kitchen. For a moment she casually observed the decor, the color patterns... and the distinct scent of seafood. Jerry was adding some salt to a pan full of shrimp, bobbing his head along to some music he was listening to.

Well, it explained why he hadn't noticed the situation.

Iva gave him a tentative tap on the shoulder. His head jerked up and pulled one earpiece out.

"Oh, Iva, you're still here." He said with some surprise. "Did R-"

Before he could get the word out, Iva placed a finger to her lips. Jerry, though he looked confused, shut his mouth. The girl led him over to the entryway and gestured for him to peek out at the dining table. The crab waved.

Jerry looked at Iva. "Uncle Jerry, we have a guest with us for dinner."

The man's face twisted in contusion at the title, but before he could object, Iva gave his shoulder a firm grip. He seemed to get the hint.

"Hi! Uh... Jerry Smith here. Nice to meet you."

"Pleasure, Mr. Smith. I do hope I'm not a bother."

Jerry gave a dismissive wave of the hand. Iva noticed it was shaking.

"Nah, nah. The more the merrier. Nothing like a guest to spice things up!" He laughed, sounding a bit nervous.

The crab smiled politely.

"I look forward to havin' a lovely meal with you both. Young lady, would you be a dear and fetch me a water while we we wait?"

"Yes, I can do that." She replied.

With that, Jerry and Iva retreated into the kitchen. Once out of the crab's sight, Jerry looked to Iva. His eyes were panicked, confused, and perhaps even angry.

"Who the hell is that?" Jerry whispered, his tone urgent. "Why am I serving him dinner?"

His fear barely registered. Iva was already scouring the cabinets for the cups. They were near the fridge, she learned.

"I don't know, exactly." Iva whispered back as she filled up the glass. "Someone who is upset with Rick."

"No shock there." He grumbled.

The girl left him for a moment to give the glass to their guest.

"Thank you, my dear. Your parents have a raised a very... _good_ girl."

His eyes surveyed her with a rather unmistakable look. Despite being dressed in sweatpants and a zipped up jacket, Iva was feeling rather exposed.

"...Thank you."

Iva returned to the kitchen with some haste. Jerry greeted her with an annoyed expression.

"So, what did Rick do this time?"

The girl shrugged.

Jerry's brow furrowed. "How can you be so calm about all this?!"

Iva didn't have a clear answer. Her feelings were still behind the glass wall and things were moving too fast for her to try and break it. She didn't think now was the time to explain that, so the girl just shrugged again.

Her eyes drifted over to the shrimp.

"I think we need to re-think these dinner plans."

"B-but this is my patented shrimp jambalaya, I've been preparing the ingredients since yesterday."

Iva looked back at him, but said nothing.

Jerry sighed. "Fine, I'll heat up some chicken from yesterday."

Iva gave a nod of approval and took the shrimp off of the stove.

Luckily it didn't take long to microwave chicken breasts and broccoli, so dinner was served within ten minutes. Jerry brought out two plates for himself and the crab, while Iva carried her own. She was about to sit at the other end of the table when the crab spoke up.

"Young miss, how about you sit by me? I don't feel much like shoutin' my tale across the table."

The girl straightened herself out and took a seat adjacent to the head of the table. Jerry, who had placed himself at the opposite end, moved to sit across from them.

"Oh there's no need for you to move, Mr. Smith. A man has a right to sit at the head of his own table." The crab gave a short chuckle.

Jerry sat back down.

The crab moved his attention to Iva.

"Now, allow me to tell you what Mr. Sanchez has done that has... upset me so."

"Please. I would love to know how we can assist you."

The crab grinned.

Iva suddenly felt a hand on her knee. She felt the glass wall starting to crack.

"You see, Mr. Sanchez was, ahem, involved, with one of my associates a few weeks back. He owes my associate a great deal of money now, and that is something I will not stand for. I am an honest business man, you see, and I do not take kindly to my people being cheated out their money."

Iva didn't need any clarification. This man was an alien pimp. An alien pimp that ran a most likely alien brothel. Hmm. She couldn't tell if that, or the thought of Rick paying a visit to such a place, was more bizarre.

"I am sorry to hear that."

"Thank you kindly, young miss. Now, the issue I face is payment. Mr. Sanchez refuses to give me the money I need, and has avoided any of my previous methods of contacting him."

"Sounds very frustrating."

He laughed. "Indeed."

Suddenly, the hand on her knee began creeping up. The glass was cracking more.

"Perhaps..."

Higher.

"We can..."

Panic was beginning to seep out through the cracks.

"Reach another form of payment?"

The hand was now at the inside of her thigh.

In that moment, several things happened at once. The glass keeping her emotions back shattered completely, allowing a flood of horror and revulsion to flood her mind. Iva jerked back violently and gripped her fork in defensive way. Jerry stood from his seat. The crab reached for his gun.

A sound was heard, unlike anything Iva had heard before, and the room was suddenly splattered with blue liquid. The crab, once sitting upright, now slumped over in a lifeless heap. More blue blood coated the untouched chicken.

Iva looked up to see Rick. He was holding a gun.

"S-sorry you had to run into this jackass. He... he's been on my ass for weeks. The girl- the girl I slept with didn't even mention until after... Just, never mind. Doesn't matter now."

Jerry looked as if he was about to speak, but was interrupted by the door opening. Everyone turned to see the two people coming through.

One was a teenager, perhaps just a few years younger than Iva herself. She had a similar face shape to Jerry, but her hair was more strawberry blond. Beside her was a slightly taller, older woman with light blond hair. Probably her mother.

"What... the hell." The younger one said, breaking the silence.

The older one promptly turned to face Rick. He answered her before she could even speak.

"Don't worry sweetie, it's... it's taken care of. Nothing to worry about."

Sweetie?

This must be Rick's child. His daughter. Iva wondered briefly is Rick had been a blonde in his younger years.

"Nothing to worry about? Dad, there's a dead... crab thing... in my dining room! How am I supposed to think there's nothing to worry about?"

Iva noticed the sound of footsteps as they pounded down the stairs. The boy Iva recognized as Morty appeared at the landing.

"Aw geez." He said, looking over the scene. "R-Rick, what happened here? This place is a mess!"

This statement prompted a heated bout of arguing among the small group. A mass of blaming and accusing words passed between them all, mostly directed at Rick.

"Well if you hadn't-"

"You're blaming ME-"

"As if you have any right-"

"But if I hadn't-"

It all came out in fragmented bits. Iva could only stand there, motionless, looking at her bloodstained clothing. If Rick hadn't come when he did, she thought, this could've turned into a much worse mess than the one they were fighting about.

Much worse.

Suddenly, the teenage girl took notice of Iva. She pushed her way through the now huddled group of people, which seemed to catch their attention, and walked up to her. Everything went quiet.

"Who are you?" She asked, jabbing a finger in Iva's direction.

Even though there was a dead alien at the table, Iva was back to feeling as if she was the intruder in their home.

 **AN: Oh boy did this take time to write! I really, really hope everyone liked it! Thank you all so much for the support and positive feedback!**

 **PSA: In case you weren't aware, the first episode of season 3 aired last Saturday! I have yet to decide whether or not the events of that episode will affect this story, but I have feeling a couple things will slip in there. Anyways, thank you all so much and I'll see you next time!**


	8. Chapter 8

It was difficult to tell how she was supposed to feel in this situation. Her entire concept of reality had been flipped on its head, she'd been threatened at gunpoint and nearly assaulted, and she'd had a front row seat to a murder. All over the course of a Wednesday afternoon.

And now here she was, introducing herself to the family of a mad scientist.

"M-my name is Iva Jenkins." She said to the young woman pointing at her. "I'm-"

"She's our new neighbor, Summer." Rick interrupted. "I'd... I'd really appreciate it if you saved all your stupid questions for later. Right now we need to get rid of this body."

He swiftly walked over to the limp corpse and threw an arm over his shoulder.

"M-Morty, help me carry this thing into the garage."

The young boy only glared at Rick.

"C'mon, Morty, we don't have time for this. When our guest here doesn't show up, his... his lackies will come after him. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can cover our tracks. Now get in here a-and help me."

While he still looked angry, Morty obeyed. As the pair lifted the body from its seat, more blood began to ooze from the stump that used to be a head. It seemed to get all over both of them.

"Ah, gross!" Morty exclaimed.

"I know, Morty. Wouldn't want one of these bastards with... with butter dip."

Iva bit her lip and took a step towards them.

"Do you... need help?"

She almost wanted to laugh at herself. Even in the aftermath of a murder, the girl still had an incessant hatred to standing awkwardly and doing nothing. She had to be useful. Especially now. Especially to the guy who just saved her ass.

Literally.

Though everyone else seemed to be a bit dumbfounded by her offer, Rick didn't even raise his unibrow.

"Y-yeah, you can grab the legs."

She rushed over to do as instructed. Since there were so many legs to be grabbed, Iva took a bundle under each arm and tried to hold them like firewood.

"Okay, on my count, we all move together to the garage." Rick said. "Ready? One, two..."

Iva lifted her portion of the body. It was, to no one's surprise, incredibly heavy. And difficult to maneuver. She knew it was because the muscles were still relaxed. Had they waited until rigor mortise set in, this would probably be an easier job.

... It was amazing where writing research took you.

"Summer, open the garage door for us!" Rick barked.

The teenager obliged without much hesitation. She rushed over to the door at the back of the kitchen and swung it open for the trio.

Iva couldn't even be bothered to look around. Her eyes were focused intently on the headless corpse. Just five minutes ago, she thought, the owner of this body was trailing his hand up her thigh. He was, without a doubt, going to rape her. Probably at gunpoint.

And now he was a lifeless husk under her arms. The girl felt herself beginning to shake.

"O-okay, Summer, do you see that red button on the wall near the door?"

"Yeah...?" She sounded rather confused.

"Press it."

She did. All at once a slab of the floor opened up to reveal a pit of flames.

"Grandpa Rick, when the hell did you install an incinerator? W-Why did you put an incinerator in our garage? Did you expect to be throwing dead bodies-"

"Hey, what did I say about... about stupid questions, Summer?!" Rick interrupted.

He turned his attention back to the task at hand.

"Okay, let's toss this prick."

Without much warning, the three of them threw the body into the pit.

Now here they were. Iva, Rick, and Morty all standing around the cackling fire. It didn't take long before the corpse was completely engulfed in the flames. Iva could hear his shell cracking in the heat.

"Oh great." Rick mumbled.

Iva looked up at him. He was examining his blood-stained clothes.

"Welp, these are ruined."

Rick proceeded to take off his coat and throw it into the pit with the body.

As well as his shirt.

"M-Morty, I'd ditch that shirt if I were you." He said.

"Aw come on, Rick, I like this shirt..."

"Y-you've got a million other shirts like it, Morty. Trust me, that thing isn't... isn't worth saving anyways. There's no detergent in the world that can get that crap out. Not even cosmic detergent. Besides, it's _evidence._ You don't want that thing l-lying around."

With a resigned sigh, Morty removed his own shirt and tossed it in.

Now the two looked at Iva.

The girl didn't even need to be told. She pulled out her notebook and set it on the workbench nearby before unzipping her jacket. She too tossed it into the incinerator. Thankfully it was thick enough so that the blood didn't soak through to her tank top.

She was glad. Iva didn't think she could handle feeling any more exposed and vulnerable tonight.

Rick went over to the wall and pressed the button. The incinerator door closed.

"Now that's taken care of..." He said. "I-it's time for clean-up. I'll get the Meeseeks box."

Suddenly, Summer stepped forward.

"You didn't answer my question."

"What, about the...the interdimensional disposal? A week ago. And yes."

Both Morty and Summer's jaws dropped a bit.

"Oh don't like you're on some high moral ground. You-You guys didn't have any problem helping shoot all those memory parasites."

Their faces softened.

"T-that's what I thought. Crap like that is exactly why I made this thing in the first place. Do you... do you remember the clean-up on those parasites? It was a nightmare. And M- Morty, I'm sure you can think of a few instances where this would've come in handy."

Morty suddenly lowered his gaze, face scrunching up in displeasure, but he didn't speak.

"B-besides, this thing is for more than just dead bodies. We- we can also use it for regular old garbage. Much more... more eco-friendly and all that crap."

At this point, Iva was barely even taking things in anymore. All of these new bits of information just sort of washed over her. Death was a common thing around here. Alien home invasions. Interdimensional portal garbage disposal.

It was all just... part of life here, it seemed.

"Now, now one of you take the Meeseeks box. I gotta... gotta take care of our new guest here."

With that, he shooed his grandchildren out of the garage. As the door opened, Iva thought she could hear a faint argument in the background between Jerry and his wife.

Rick re-shut the door. Now the two were alone again.

"T-thanks for helping out back there. These crab people are real pains to move."

"...No problem." Her own voice sounded distant to her.

"I'm gonna walk you home. Something tells me this asshole won't be the only one coming here."

Iva nodded. Rick grabbed something from his work bench, opened the garage door, and the two were soon on their way out.

* * *

The walk home was a quiet one. Iva really wasn't sure what to say. After all that had just transpired, what the hell _could_ she say? Why yes, thank you for murdering that rapist crab pimp for me? I hope the mess of splattered brains isn't too much of a hassle to clean up?

In this one instance, she thought, her social ineptitude was acceptable.

Didn't stop her from criticizing herself anyway, though.

They finally reached her front door. As Iva turned to face Rick, it suddenly registered that he was, in fact, shirtless. And she suddenly felt much more awkward.

"I... uh... thank you." She said, lamely. "I would've been pretty..."

Don't say screwed, don't say screwed.

"...I would've been in pretty bad shape if you hadn't come along."

"Eh, I was doing everyone a favor by killing him anyways. C-creeps like that don't deserve to live."

His face hardened a bit. Iva thought she saw him reminisce on something for a moment, but he shook himself out of it.

"A-anyways, I should get going. But before I do, I have something..."

Rick fished around in his pocket before pulling a small object out. He held it out for Iva to take. She did.

It looked like a high-tech digital watch. The color scheme was similar to Meeseeks box in that it was all cyan, grey, and green. Even had a slight glow to it. Interestingly enough, though, the face of the watch was completely black.

"What is this?" Iva asked.

"It's a communication device. If you wear it and look at the screen for five seconds, it'll call me. I-I figured you might need it in case someone links you to the... to the murder and comes knocking. Plus, y'know, it might be something to put in your book."

Iva clutched the device in her hand.

"Thank you, Rick."

"Yeah, no problem. Seeya around, Iva."

Without another word, Rick turned around and began walking towards his house. Iva stood there and watched until he had completely disappeared from view, then re-entered her house.

It was completely unpacked.

Every book, every device, every miscellaneous box of crap had been unloaded and organized in a rather pleasing way. All of her Harry Potter books were stacked in order by her bed. The Meeseeks was nowhere to be found.

...Iva put the watch on.

 **AN: Sorry it took so long guys! I kinda got caught up in another project, a novel I've been working on. Surprise surprise, I'm a writer as well. He-he. Anyways, hope you all enjoyed! Thanks for the amazing support!**


	9. Chapter 9

The old, rusty grocery cart squeaked along as Iva moved down the aisles. Her now bare elbows dug into the cold metal, while her feet dragged along the tile. The device had one wheel that didn't want to cooperate with the rest of its brethren, one that constantly had Iva swerving a little to the left.

But she hardly even noticed. Hell, she wouldn't have cared even if she did notice. The cart was, at the moment, the only thing keeping her upright. The only thing keeping her gliding through the aisles and grabbing necessities, even with all the noisy people and blinding lights. That old, rusty shopping cart was her best friend for the hour.

Iva hadn't been out of her house in two weeks.

The realization that everything she believed in was real would've been enough to send her into a writing spree. But being a sudden murder accomplice and would-be sexual assault victim had caused her to lose most of the sleep she might've had in the meantime.

She spent her many, many waking hours either in front of the computer, scrounging through easily accessible food, or contemplating her new change in reality. God only knew how long that routine would have continued if the fridge hadn't finally emptied out. Perhaps that was for the best.

So here she was, feeling like a reclusive zombie as she picked up her corn flakes. Iva was glad she'd at least had the self-respect to shower before entering polite society.

The woman looked around.

Some people were shopping alone. Some shopped with their friends. There were quite a few mothers trying to placate crying children. One woman was practically stalking the wine section. All different people, she knew. Different purposes, different situations. But as far as Iva was concerned, they all fell into the same, albeit broad, category.

They were all normal.

Just normal people shopping for normal things. Normal winos, normal crying children, normal mothers trying to soothe them. Iva was, as usual, the freak. She could still feel the warm but dead weight of the crab's legs under her palms; she could even feel the ghost of his hand on her thigh.

She shuddered. Iva was most likely the only one in the store that had held a dead alien body in her hands. At least, she hoped she was.

"What am I even supposed to do now?" She muttered to the grocery cart. She wondered what advice it would have for her. It certainly looked like it had seen some shit.

She glanced down at the watch Rick had given her. It hadn't moved from her wrist since the night he gave it to her. Except when showering, of course. The thought of accidentally calling him while naked was too humiliating to risk. But every other moment, it stayed on her. Like a stylish security blanket.

Should she call him? Iva had certainly grappled with the idea. The problem (or at least the big problem) was that she had no idea what to say. What could she say to him? There was no particular reason to call him, after all. He'd given her enough fuel for a lifetime.

Iva just kind of wanted to see him again. And she wasn't sure if it was right that she did.

Suddenly, her cart slammed into another. Crap! Iva could kick herself. She'd been too wrapped up in her own stupid thoughts to keep an eye on what was going on.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" She began. "I didn't-"

She stopped.

The owner of this second cart was none other than Jerry.

At first, the two just stared at each other in silence. Mostly out of awkwardness, though Iva had a sneaking suspicion that Jerry was also just baffled by her appearance. And she wouldn't blame him. With her wrinkled tank top, torn sweats, and unkempt hair, Iva was a wreck. Or more of a wreck than usual, anyway.

Finally, tired of the discomfort, Iva gave a hesitant wave.

He waved back.

"Hey!" He greeted, plastering a friendly smile on his face. "Fancy seeing you here, Iva."

"Y-yeah. Fancy seeing you here too. How, uh, howya doing?"

Jerry leaned against his grocery cart. "Oh good, good. Just picking up some dinner for the family."

He pulled out a pack of raw pork chops to demonstrate.

Iva nodded in approval. "Looks good."

"...Yeah."

The pair settled back into their uncomfortable silence. Iva bit her lip.

"I'm really sorry about what happened." She said. Now seemed like a good time to just get to the point. "With roping you into the whole crab thing."

Jerry threw a dismissive wave of his hand. "Nah, nah, it's fine. Wouldn't be the first time I got pulled into one of Rick's shenanigans." His voice went into a displeased grumble towards the end.

Iva only felt more guilty. "Still, I-I'm really sorry."

"Really, don't be. You're not even the one who-"

Suddenly, another voice interrupted them. "Jerry?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Iva spotted the blonde woman she'd met briefly at Rick's house. His daughter. Once she spotted her husband, the woman began making her way down the aisle.

"Jerry, what's taking so lo- oh." The woman caught sight of Iva immediately.

"Beth, you remember Iva don't you?"

Iva was starting to regret coming out of her house.

"Yes, Jerry, I remember." Her voice was slightly annoyed.

Beth walked over to Iva and offered out a free hand. Her other hand was grasping a wine bottle. "Beth Smith. I don't think we properly met last time."

Iva, though surprised by her polite demeanor, took her hand. The two shared a polite shake.

"Nice to meet you." She said. "I-I'm sorry about the circumstances last time."

God, it felt so weird dancing around the subject matter like this. It was like she was apologizing for being tardy to a dinner date instead of helping her father with a dead body.

Beth looked over to her husband, her face twisted in confusion.

"I told her there's no reason to apologize!" Jerry said, putting his hands up in a defensive manner.

Beth turned back to Iva. "If anything we should be the ones apologizing."

"Actually, Rick is really the one..."

Jerry stopped mid-sentence as his wife shot him the dirtiest look she could manage.

"Anyways, how about we invite you over for dinner as an apology from us?"

Did she... did she hear them right?

"You want - you want to invite me back?"

"It's the least we could do after what happened last time."

"It'll be a normal dinner, we promise." Jerry added. "No crazy aliens."

Iva wasn't sure, but she thought she could hear him mumble "I hope" at the end.

The girl considered their offer. On the one hand, it might do her some good to spend some time around other human beings again. And who better to socialize with than the family who'd seen her covered in alien blood? On the other hand, there was Rick.

"Will uh, will Rick be there?"

He'd been on her mind a lot in the past two weeks, sure. There was really no way he couldn't be. But would he even want to see her?

Jerry sighed, but tried to keep it quiet. "Yes, my father-in-law with be there."

Iva squeezed her arm, thinking.

"Don't see how he couldn't be, since we're his meal ticket." Jerry grumbled, but nobody paid much attention.

Iva sighed. This was probably her only excuse to talk to Rick again. Worst comes to worst, she thought, it'll just be another failed attempt at starting a friendship.

"Okay. Y-yeah, I'd love to come. Thank you."

"Great!" Jerry said. "We'll see you tonight. 7:30. Be there or be square."

Beth pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "Come on, Jerry."

The two turned to go and continue their shopping. "See you tonight, Iva." Beth said.

The woman stood there for a moment, still mostly leaning on the cart. This time, however, it was more out of nerves than sluggishness. She was contemplating running after them and taking back her acceptance, but decided against it. She knew she had to start pushing herself a little.

After all, she'd already dealt with a murder. How terrifying would going to dinner be?

Very, she told herself. The answer was very.

 **A/N: Hey everyone, long time no see! Sorry for the long wait! I've really been focusing on writing my book, so my fanfics have kind of taken a back seat. But I don't want to give up on this story and you guys deserved an update. Sorry if this chapter was a little lackluster, by the way. I figured Iva needed a little time to deal with everything before I threw more crap her way. Things will pick up next chapter, promise! Thanks for all your wonderful support!**


	10. Chapter 10

This is ridiculous, Iva thought. How could she reduce herself to such a nauseating cliche? It wasn't that big of a decision. She doubted that anyone else in the house would doll themselves up for a simple meal. And she doubted even more that Rick in particular would care.

And yet, here she was. Trying to pick between the two outfits she set on her futon. They were the only two "nice" outfits she had, two dresses amongst her endless comfort clothes. So, which would it be? The red one that hung off her shoulders and accentuated her thinness, or the black one that could just as easily have been a night-shirt? One was too fancy, the other was too short to be worn by itself.

Ugh, decisions decisions. Both of them stupid.

" I'm stalling again." She mumbled, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

In truth, she didn't care much about the outfits. It was just the prospect of going over to that house again and having dinner making her nervous. And when she was nervous, she over-thought.

Iva looked over to the digital clock by her bed. She wasn't sure why she still had a digital alarm clock anymore. Maybe it was just the fact that it kept on trucking long after it's battery was supposed to die, which earned it some weird respect.

The glowing numbers read 7:20.

"Shit."

Fuck It, she thought. There was no way, no way she was going to be late because she couldn't pick an outfit.

So, on with the black night-shirt. To conspenate for the fact that it only hung a little below her ass, Iva threw on a pair of black leggings.

She slicked her mess of hair back with water, slapped on some lipstick, and voila! She had donned her disguise of a normal person.

But just as she was about to head put the door, the girl paused.

Should she bring her notebook? Or would that seem rude? She wasn't going for another interview, so why would it be necessary? The honest answer; it wasn't. There was absolutely no reason to bring it to a simple dinner party. But somehow she felt... naked without it. Like a child without a security blanket.

So, with a sigh, she ran to grab it from her bedroom floor and promptly stuff it into her satchel.

* * *

7:30. On the dot. She was there, but had a feeling she was still square.

The girl stood there, fist hovering over the door and bottom lip clenched firmly between her teeth. Maybe this was a mistake, her brain told her. Why would Rick want to see her? The last time he'd only met with her to oblige her curiosity.

Then again, she did help him move a dead body. Did being a murder accomplice count for anything?

Before she could think further on this, the door swung open. Jerry was on the other side, wearing a stained apron.

The two stared at each other for a minute.

Iva quickly put her fist, still hanging awkwardly in midair, down by her side. She released her bottom lip and let her mouth form a pleasant smile. Or what she hoped was pleasant, anyways.

"G-good evening. I'm here for dinner."

Jerry returned her smile and stepped a bit out the way. "Come on in! I think you'll enjoy tonight's dinner. I grilled up my famous pork chops!"

"Sounds good." She replied.

In she went.

It was odd, being in the house again. There was the distinct feeling of being judged: if not by the people, but by the structure itself. The walls were clean where they had once been coated in blood. The dining room was immaculate where a corpse once occupied it's entrance. The walls were judging her.

Or it was the family staring at her from their seats. Either way, either way.

The whole table was already filled up; Beth sat at the end of the table, Summer and Morty on opposite sides, and Jerry rushing past her to take his place at the head. Two empty chairs remained, on opposite sides of one another.

No sign of Rick.

Iva bit her lip as she decided which one to take.

Next to Summer. Next to Morty. Next to Summer. Next to Morty.

"Are you gonna sit down or what?" Summer asked.

Next to Morty.

The legs of the chair screeched against the wood as she pushed herself in. Iva winced, then turned her attention to the table of food before her. A pile of sizzling pork chops sat in the center, surrounded by mashed potatoes, asparagus, and a basket of croissant roles. She had to admit, despite her discomfort, the food looked good. It'd be nice to eat something that wasn't cereal. Or ramen. Or various, low-quality take out establishments.

Iva realized she'd been staring at the table for a long time.

"Uh, the food looks great, Jerry."

This got a confident smile out of her host. "Why thank you! It's my pride and joy. The secret to a great pork chop is salt, pepper, and just a hint of-"

Out of the corner of her eye, Iva saw Beth roll her eyes and begin to down a glass of wine. Summer started texting someone. Morty just shook his head.

"Anyways, dinner is served." Jerry said flatly.

And suddenly Iva was infinitely more uncomfortable. Jerry served her a chop, a glop of potatoes, and a heap of asparagus. She immediately dug in. Partly because she was eager to eat real food, and partly to keep her from having to talk.

But mostly the real food thing.

And oh God was it real food. It was the most real thing she'd put in her mouth in weeks. Instead of cheap noodles and artificial chicken broth, it was meat. Instead a frozen tray full of overly salted foodstuffs, it was a vegetable.

Wow, she thought. Eating a vegetable of her own violation. Was she finally starting to become a real adult?

Still no sign of Rick.

Iva looked around to her distracted hosts, as if her gaze would reveal her inquiry. Of course, it didn't.

Back to eating.

Maybe he didn't want to come, Iva thought. Maybe her showing up was too audacious a move, and it caused him to pull away. Wouldn't be the first time.

Or maybe he'd already forgotten she existed. Wouldn't be the first time for that either.

Or maybe-

Just then, a green light filled the room. Iva looked up Right above the empty chair, a swirling green vortex hung. Like a puddle of radioactive fluid floating in the middle of the dining room. From it, a familiar hand emerged and pulled the chair out. The hand retracted. Moments later Rick popped out and landed smoothly in his now adjusted seat.

Iva's fork had inexplicably slipped from her hand and landed on her plate. The rest of the family kept eating. Though Iva did catch a scowl from Jerry.

Rick slipped some odd device, which Iva assumed to be responsible for the vortex, back into his lab coat.

"S-sorry I'm late, I had important shit to do."

"What kind of important shit is that, grandpa Rick?" Summer asked, crossing her arms.

"The kind that involves you minding your own business."

The scientist immediately turned his attention to the food and served himself a pork chop with some asparagus.

Iva was still staring.

As Rick began to cut into his meat, he looked up to see her sitting across the table. The girl immediately stopped staring.

"I-Iva, what are you doing here?" He asked. It didn't sound malicious or cold, but genuinely surprised.

Oh God, she thought. Nobody told him she was coming over. Well, at least that meant he remembered her.

"Uh..." She began. "J-Jerry and Beth invited me over for dinner."

Rick slid his eyes over to Jerry. "R-really?"

"Yes, really." Jerry replied, crossing his arms. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Not at all. I'm sure she's having a great time making... making mindless small talk with near strangers."

Jerry's scowl intensified. Iva shifted uncomfortably, unsure if she should interfere or not.

"C'mon guys." Morty decided to speak up for the first time that evening. Iva silently thanked him. "Can't we just have a normal dinner? Can't you take this somewhere else? Please?"

He went unheard.

"Wel ex _cuse_ me for showing a bit of basic kindness towards our new neighbor." Jerry spat. Iva heard a low 'not that you'd know anything about basic kindness anyways ' tumble from his lips. "Besides, she's only here because she wants to see you."

Iva could tell her cheeks had gone from being pallid to crimson in a matter of moments.

Jeez Jerry, she thought, way to throw a girl under the bus.

"S-she has a watch she can use to call me, Jerry. She probably accepted your invitation out of... out of, what was it you said, basic kindness?"

Her cheeks darkened further. She felt more like a complete fool than ever.

Iva's mental note from their previous conversation made itself known. He wasn't here to talk bullshit, he said. So she wasn't going to bullshit him.

Even if the truth made her cringe in embarrassment.

"A-actaully, if I'm being honest, I was too nervous to use it. I didn't know if you wanted to see me again."

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence. Rick sat back in his chair.

"W-why the hell would I give you a means to contact me if... If I didn't want you to use it?"

That was... a good question. Iva wasn't sure how to answer.

Because he wanted to be polite?

For emergencies only?

Because she was a goddamn idiot?

"Because I over-think everything." Was what she decided on.

Rick raised part of his unibrow. "Well, y-you can stop that now. I gave you the watch for a reason. U-use it if you need me for research. Or if, I don't know, you get bored."

The girl wasn't sure what to say.

"I- thanks." She said, a bit lamely.

Suddenly, the feeling of being judged was lifted. Just a bit.

Iva went back to eating. Huh. Maybe being a murder accomplice did count for something.

 **AN: Hey guys! Again, really sorry for long wait. School started back up and I've been up to my ass in homework. I also had some trouble coming up with an idea for how to present this chapter. It was originally going to go much worse, but I decided a bit of pleasentneas couldn't hurt for now. There will be plenty of time for things to go wrong next time!**

 **I hope you guys enjoyed this update! Thank you all so so much for the support! I'll see you next time. Hopefully sooner. He-he.**


	11. Chapter 11

It took a week.

Of course. Of course it did. She never could get around to something without overthinking it to death. What was she supposed to say? Should she invite him to hang out? But what kind of hang-out could she offer a mad scientist with a way better cable package?

But, nonetheless, Iva did get around to it. Making an attempt, she concluded, was a better option than letting an opportunity for friendship fade into the mist.

With a deep exhale, and a deeper swig of coffee, she turned the watch to herself and waited.

It was an uncomfortable five seconds, staring into the device. She felt a bit like an idiot at first. Maybe Iva was going about it wrong? But, after those awkward moments, the watch started to vibrate and its face lit up bright green. Which, to someone who lived in a perpetually dark house, was nearly blinding.

Iva squeezed her eyes shut.

"I-Iva?" A familiar voice answered. "Hello?"

She peeked one eye open. Rick, or Rick's head, was projected as a hologram through the screen. At first, the girl could only stare. The holographic technology was, like everything else she'd seen of Rick's, something straight out of a science fiction novel. His features were clearly displayed though the floating image, each facial movement documented without a bit of lag or glitching. The idea that he had given this scientific marvel to her without a bit of hesitation was, frankly, insane.

"Hellooo?"

Shit. Iva realized she'd been gaping like an idiot.

"H-hey Rick!" She greeted, trying to sound casual and failing.

"What's up?"

"Uh, not much. Just, you said to call if I wanted to talk so... here I am!" She let out an awkward chuckle. "Hope I didn't catch you at a bad time or anything."

Did that sound like she was trying too hard? Probably.

"A-actaully, I was just about to grab Morty and head out."

"O-oh." Disappointment drowned her anxiety. "Well, if I'm keeping you..."

Rick's hologram shook its head. The motion was surprisingly fluid.

"Would you wanna come with us?"

Disappointment was drowned by excitement.

"I-sure!" She said, perhaps too quickly. "If I wouldn't be a burden or anything."

Rick raised an eyebrow. "Why would I ask you to come, then?"

Iva's eyes darted away. "Fair point."

"You know you really... you really got get that self-esteem thing in check. Anyways, meet us in our garage in ten minutes. Bring a towel."

"Okay, can do!" She said, already rushing to her linen closer for the requested item. "By the way where are we going? Do I need sunscreen too?"

Just by logical deduction, she could guess that they would be going to a pool. Iva hadn't gone swimming in ages, and honestly couldn't remember where her swimsuit was. Then again, perhaps that was for the best. The public didn't need to be subjected to her bone-white, gangly form in nothing but a bikini.

"We're going to Atlantis." He said. "Seeya in ten."

With that, he hung up.

Iva immediately dropped her towel. Atlantis? THE Atlanis? Perhaps she shouldn't have been as shocked as she was. Rick had proven himself to he the real deal when it came to the mythical mad scientist. And, furthermore, she'd already seen the consequences of his space travels. So a casual trip to Atlantis shouldn't have been that surprising.

But goddamn it was.

Iva found herself joining her fallen towel. "Holy Shit, holy Shit." She mumbled, clasping her hand over her mouth.

Atlantis.

God, if this was true, Iva was sure she'd have to hold back tears. Atlantis. Her tiny. five-year-old self was screeching in delight.

Shit. She had five minutes. Iva considered finding other items to bring in preparation, but came up empty in terms of ideas. What the hell did one bring to Atlantis? Rick had only mentioned a towel. So, with only a towel and her notebook, Iva bolted out of her house.

She was sure she looked a bit mad herself.

* * *

Turns out, the items needed for an Atlantean trip were nothing more than a towel, a special bathing suit, and an oxygen tank.

And the towel was only for when they got back.

Iva hurriedly shoved herself into the yellow suit. It was a light, breathable material that made it easy to slip on. It was only giddiness that slowed her pace.

Once it was on, the girl looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her suit stretched over her body quite nicely. Funny, since most suits hung off her frame like drooping skin off a corpse. Perhaps it was just that Rick was so thin himself that he understood the struggle.

A knock on the door made her jump.

"Ready to go?"

"Y-yeah, just a second!"

Iva did one last check to make sure the suit fit before exiting the bathroom. Rick was leaning against the adjacent wall. Beside him was her oxygen tank.

"H-hold out your arms for me. I need to get this thing fitted right."

Iva did so. Rick lifted the tank, with no difficulty, and came around to her back. He slipped the straps over her arms ans tightened them accordingly. The tank, she found, was not nearly as heavy as it looked. Did Rick perhaps create a new, light-weight material for it?

"That outta do it." Rick mumbled. He moved back to her front. "Now, c-clip those two fasteners."

He gestured to the four straps hanging limp by her sides. Iva clipped the first one around her waist, And the second under her breasts.

"Those tight enough?"

She nodded. "Good. Put this on."

He handed her a diving mask. Iva stapped it over her skull, taming a bit of her wild mane of hair in the process.

"That fit okay?"

Thumbs up.

"We're set, then. Follow me."

Rick beckoned her to follow him into the garage. Morty was standing in the center of the area, dressed in the same garb. His expression, she saw, was not a welcoming one.

Iva was going to say hello, but found her tongue was leaden. God, had she caused some rift between them with her presence?

She settled on an awkward wave.

Morty waved back, if dismissively.

"A-Alriht," Rick said, thankfully breaking the awkward silence that had set in, "Everyone ready? Got all your gear on?"

Iva gave a vigorous nod.

"Yeah, we're ready." Morty said. His voice was no more inviting than his expression. He sounded irritated.

Rick reached into his lab coat pocket and pulled out the device she'd seen at dinner. It was white, gun-shaped, and bore a large tube atop its barrel. The rube was filled with some kind of glowing green liquid. The kind of green liquid one would associate with comic book origin stories and very misleading information about radioactive substances.

He fired it, and a portal appeared. The same kind as the one at dinner.

Iva took a step back.

"Ladies first." Rick said, stepping aside from the portal.

Iva tried to hide her sudden fears. It dawned on her that she was, in fact, about to jump into a vortex that led to a supposedly mythical destination.

Needless to say, this wasn't the happiest revelation. A better emotion to describe it would "scared shitless."

But, both Rick and Morty were looking at her expectantly. And if there was one thing that trumped the fear of the unknown, it was the fear of not meeting up to social expectations.

"L-let's do this!" She exclaimed.

And so, nerves in shambles and brain screaming with joy and horror (what an odd mix), Iva stepped up to the portal. It towered over her, the Disney villain green portal, like the gaping mouth of a lovecraftian monster.

Well, this was the type of stuff she'd write about anyways.

Iva took a step into the portal. Before she knew It, her whole body was inside, free-floating through space, and tumbling towards a seeming oblivion.

All she had time to think was "fuck fucking fuck."

 **A.N.: Me? Updating in a somewhat reasonable timeframe? What is this, another dimension? Anyways, hope you all liked this! I figured since we never did get that Atlantis adventure, I'd write one myself. So yes, next chapter is Atlantis! Sorry for the cliffhanger, by the way. Didn't wanna do the whole adventure in one sitting. Thank you all so so much for your support, it means the world to me! Seeya next time!**


	12. Chapter 12

Somehow, by some miracle (though Rick might object to that term), Iva's body had righted itself within space. She came out of the portal and stepped out onto the wet ground. Or, well, stumbled and landed on the wet ground. Iva did not pride herself for being a creature of grace.

For a few moments, the girl was alone. Her body was shaking, confused and shocked at its sudden, unnatural journey.

The interior of the portal was completely without gravity. Iva's body had whirled about without anything to grip, save her notebook. So, holding it like a teddy, she had floated helplessly in the vacuum. Then, without warning, she was pulled down. Pulled towarda the other end. She was straightened out, then thrust into an unknown world. The sensation was like being flushed down a toilet. Fitting, since she could've really used one to puke into.

On the bright side, this did give her an idea.

 _Write a story where all the protagonist discovers futuristic technology isn't all it's cracked up to be. Possible commentary on the harsh reality of science?_

As she wrote this, Iva remembered exactly why she'd put herself through that.

She looked up from her notebook. And gasped.

This was- this was...

Rick and Morty suddenly popped out of the portal. As soon as they were through, it disappeared behind them.

"This is it, M-Morty. Atlantis." Rick said.

So it was.

Iva looked around at the crumbling architecture. Stone pillars reached far above human comprehension, holding up a cracked stone ceiling. Water dripped from it, falling into an intricate series of canals below. But that wasn't the interesting part. Had this been all there was to see, Iva wouldn't have thought twice. It just looked like crumbling temples from ancient Greece. What caught her attention was everything around it. And everything around, from the looks of it, was water. The ocean, to be precise.

The city was encased within a glowing blue dome. Outside was the vast ocean. Fish swam around, unconcerned with the marvel beneath the deep. Above them, a whale swam and cast a great shadow. It was like a giant, reverse fish bowl.

"Geez Rick, this is really something." Morty commented.

"I know. It's the world's ultimate aquarium, Morty. We're surrounded by every kind of fish you can imagine. L-look, there's a megalodon right there."

Iva snapped her head over to where Rick was pointing. And, sure enough, a shark the size of a plane swam by, innocent and (thankfully) uncaring for the tiny humans ogling it. All Iva could think of was a novel she read many years ago.

And that she really wanted a camera.

Her attention, however, was soon drawn to something else. The dome. It seemed to be... pulsating. Ripples of light kept passing over it with rythmic timing.

"What's with the force-field?" Iva asked, now more curious than anything. "Where's it coming from?"

"That's what we're here for, Iva. This- this place is kept dry by a powerful crystal. Nothing gets through the field of energy it produces."

Iva's heart pounded in her chest. Blue crystals? Atlantis? She refused to say what she was thinking. She was a professional (Or as much of a professional as a strung out writer could be) and she was not going to make a fool of herself.

"Kind of like that Disney movie?" Morty asked. "The one with all the crystal necklaces?"

"Exactly. W-where do you think they got the idea?"

O-oh.

Suddenly, a splashing sound startled the trio. Iva let her eyes dart down, then widen at the sight before her. There, in a nearby canal, was a mermaid. Her skin was green, her red hair hung like dead seaweed, and the back of her tail was lined with spines. But there she was. Her webbed hand was pressed against the forcefield.

"What is taking them so long? If I had legs, I would kick them."

"E-excuse me," Morty began, "Can we help you?"

The mermaid turned to look at them. Iva suddenly felt rather awkward. Were they intruding?

The aquatic woman narrowed her eyes.

Morty continued. "Do you want help with that forcefield?"

Instead of answering, the mermaid backed away from the forcefield and dipped back into the water.

"Wait, come back!"

"Don't wa-waste your breath, Morty." Rick said, only answered by a glare from the boy.

Morty began to run after it, but soon realized there was no need. The creature made a sharp right before popping out right beside the trio. Or, well, duo. Rick was too busy investigating the forcefield itself. He'd brought out some sort of scanner to analyze it. Perhaps he was used to mermaids.

If he was, Iva certainly wasn't, and she was staring at the creature with childlike wonder.

The mermaid cocked her head to the side. Iva copied.

"What are you doing down here?" She inquired.

Morty rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, my grandpa and I- and uh, Iva here-" He said that with a tinge of distaste, "Came down from the surface to have a look around. This is a pretty nice place you got, y'know?"

The mermaid only crossed her arms and narrowed her gaze.

"Swing and a miss." Rick commented. Morty glared.

"I uh, I noticed you were looking at that forcefield over there. We can take care of that, if you want."

In her astonishment at finding a mermaid, Iva had failed to register the nature of her actions. The mermaid had been staring longingly out the blue dome. It finally dawned on Iva.

The forcefield workded both ways. Nothing could get in, sure. But that meant nothing could get out, either. A shudder went down her spine.

It also gave her a story idea, but at the moment it felt too tactless to write it down.

"I-I know you can." The mermaid replied, finally. Her face had turned from stern to just confused.

"You know?" Morty asked.

"I know. I saw you and your grandfather ten minutes ago. What are you doing back down here? Why do you not remember?"

For several moments, there was silence. Morty turned to Rick. Rick looked back at Morty. Iva stood there in a bout of hopeless confusion. At least she and the mermaid had something in common.

Finally, Rick took interest in the creature and joined everyone. He leaned down to her level.

"Where did we go?"

She pointed up, towards one of the immensely tall buildings. The highest of them all, in fact. Iva had to crane her neck to get a glimpse of its peak. From it, a pulsating beam of light shine.

"Rick?" Morty asked.

The old man stood back up. "It seems we've got- we've got company, Morty."

Iva, still as lost as their aquatic companion, looked over to him.

"Who, uh, who's our company, Rick?"

His blue eyes slid over to her. There was something cold and calculating within them. Iva supposed she should've felt uneasy. But instead, she was intrigued. The wheels were turning in his head. What was he grinding at?

"Us." He replied.

 **A.N.: Good evening everyone! I hope you all enjoyed this installment. Let me know what you all thought! As always, thank you all so much for reading and I'll see you next time!**


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